The Asylum
by footshooter
Summary: At the end of the night and the start of the day, all he had left were his enemies. But the day is ending and the night is beginning once more. They're all creatures of darkness and nightmares, waiting for their moment to arrive and Gotham is in its dusk. They wait for the time that the darkness descends, and then they'll leave the asylum and rise once more.
1. Chapter 1

The asylum is always cold. It always smells like damp and moss. Pipes leak through the ceilings and drip onto the floor. You get used to the noise, but at first it drives you mad.

People scream from the darkness. People cry, people sing. The noise of suffering is constant, and it's all the doing of the people themselves. Nurses and orderlies hurry around with medication and mops. It smells like piss. Psychiatrists attempt to 'help'. The patients aren't too helpful.

It's dark in the asylum. Lots of corners. Sharp objects are banned for this very reason. Unless it's the needles. Light bulbs flicker and eyes are forced to get used to it.

The main communal area is a large hall. It isn't clean or clinical. It contains plastic tables and chairs and there are bars on the windows. Natural light doesn't penetrate the shadows. Instead, bright, fluorescent strip lights shine out.

It is inhabited by the people it usually is. They set up a game of cards, as they always do.

The Mad Hatter sits aside from the main table, tossing tarot cards and giggling to himself. Occasionally he starts up a song, rising in pitch until he loses his breath and wheezily backs down to giggles again.

Clayface sits oozing and flaking onto the seats. He has his own. No one else will sit there. They don't want to be infected with whatever he has. He tells tales of his wife and all they did together. They try not to laugh at his love for a doll, as the last person who did so was melted into a puddle of diseased flesh, and it wasn't pleasant for anyone in the vicinity.

Maxie Zeus sits proudly in his chair and shouts about how the staff should worship him, for he is a god. The electric shock therapy has given him a sickly pallor which glows in the darkness, and he is so statically charged that he electrocutes anyone who sits beside him. He believes this is the power of the clouds and the lightening. He is surrounded at all other times by a gathering of worshippers, but he doesn't allow them into this 'sacred' room of gods.

Professor Milo sits in a huff, complaining about those around him. He is sane for now, he knows this, and he doesn't wish to go back to insanity. He worries that his brain is leaving him each and every day he stays there. But if the staff believed everyone who said they were sane…

Killer Croc lumbers up from the basement and sits in the puddles underneath the dripping pipes. He grunts and growls, crashing his elongated jaws together and showing his pointed teeth. He doesn't join in with the cards, he watches. He waits.

The Riddler talks to himself mainly, he doesn't trust the others to know what he is talking about. He sits with Penguin and they talk about business management. They don't partake in card games, thinking themselves above such trivialities. They speak of subjects of utmost importance, but from the outside, no one would believe it meant a damned thing.

Two-Face shivers around the main table in between Clayface and Scarecrow. His burnt side faces Clayface, but the distance is still noticeable. Clayface mutters and Two-Face nods along with it. He clutches his coin, flipping it to make any choices he needs to make. He jumps every time someone speaks to him. He causes the puddles on the floor when the coin tells him not to go to the bathroom. They've all tried, staff and inmates alike, but if the man wants to smell of piss and live his life through random chance, why not let him?

Scarecrow alternates with Jonathan. They talk to each other, bickering like brothers. The Fear Toxin has worn off, but sometimes he gets flashbacks and his skin drops its colour, his eyes widen and he starts to mutter and scream. Birds occasionally fly at him from the walls, but no one else seems to see them. He wonders what the hell is wrong with them. Scarecrow assures him it will be okay. Jonathan believes him.

The Joker strolls into the room and flops down on to his chair. His eyes flicker to the screen underneath his green-tinged greasy hair. He brushes it aside and licks his lips, tongue travelling to the scars cutting into his cheeks. He portrays an air of ease. The other inmates mutter greeting to him. Clayface offers his hand, and the Joker laughs, baring his yellowed teeth. Clayface laughs too, but it isn't funny. Not at all.

Batman follows close behind, sitting down with more grace than the Joker but portraying the same ease. The man is a billionaire, after all, and he retains the same cocky air he had before he was thrown into the nuthouse. The inmates mutter their greetings too. Because inside the asylum they're all together.

At the end of the day, all you're left with is your enemies.

Or, should he say, at the _start_ of the day.

Nightwing appears on the news and the room becomes full of noise. There is sarcastic cheering, banging on the tables, heckling; and then it calms down to nothing, trickling away to silence.

He is Gotham's hero. The daytime hero. Everyone loves a bird; birds are clear and pretty and obvious, flying through the day. Bats are nightly creatures, secretive and terrifying. Hence why the Batman is sat with the other creatures of the night and his little _bird_ pal is out there being worshipped on the news.

The Mad Hatter is muttering, the level increasing. His voice is feverish, filled with wheezing giggles and frenzied urgency.

"The day is here. The day will end. The night is coming. It's coming closer and closer and it will soon be here. You'll see. You'll all see."

He starts to laugh manically. Everyone ignores him. They've heard it all before. They're sitting and waiting for their time to return.

"Something big is coming. You'll all see."

Batman realised pretty quickly that the 'insane' were saner than the 'sane'. Inside these walls was a level of intellect that he couldn't have imagined.

"That _bird_," Jonathan said, laughing. "Doesn't scare me. I have a Scarecrow. We can scare him off."

"You can scare _crows_," Clayface spat. "Not _Nightwings_. Or Robins."

"Can too," Jonathan muttered. "I can. Can't I? _Of course you can, brother. Of course. _See! I can."

The Joker rolled his eyes.

"Yo, _pestilence_."

Clayface glared angrily at the Joker, and the Joker bared his teeth into a smile, stretching out his scars and contorting his face into the stuff of nightmares. He licked his lips.

"You wanna play, or wind up Scaredy over here? Huh? C'mon now. We're all friends here. We don't appreciate it."

Scarecrow leant over to Batman.

"You believe me, right? You believe Scarecrow could scare him off!"

Batman patted Jonathan on the shoulder.

"Of course I do."  
"See!" Jonathan said, standing up and pointing across the table at Clayface. "The Bat agrees!"

Clayface also rose from his seat, leaving diseased skin behind. The Joker grimaced.

"The _Bat_ don't know _shit_."

"The Bat knows plenty," Batman muttered, turning his glare towards Clayface.

"The Bat got thrown in here by that little prodigy shit of his, so how the hell can you lord it over us and claim to know anything? Huh?"

"The night is coming," The Mad Hatter shouted, his shrieking laughter echoing around the room. He shuffled his tarot cards and started to mutter their meanings.

The Joker rolled his eyes again.

"Y'know what I think? I think everyone should calm the fuck down before I get something in here to do if for ya's."  
"Oh, and what are _you_ going to do, clown?"

The Joker smiled, "Um, how about I, ah, melt your fucking face off?" He paused. "Oh no wait, that's already happened. My bad." He smirked at Clayface, who reached for his face. The Joker dodged backwards.

"Ah, ah, ah. You don't _touch_ me. I'm not having my pretty face ruined by you."

"It's already _ruined_!"  
"You burn me, man. You burn me. Hey, Batsy? You think my face is ruined?"

Batman raised an eyebrow at the Joker.

"Obviously not."  
"Aw, baby, you're so _sweet_."

The Joker leant forwards to plant a kiss on Batman's face, and Batman cringed away.

"Get your rotten teeth away from me, man. And try fucking brushing them once in a while."  
"Geez. This 'wound the Joker day' or something?"  
"It comes closer day by day!"

Milo turns to stare at the Mad Hatter.

"Can no one shut him _up_?"  
"Croc could shut him up."

Batman waved Croc back to the floor.

"No one is shutting up anyone."

"Fucking crazies," Milo muttered. "Seriously. Why am I surrounded by crazies all the fucking time?"

Maxie snorts, "No one is crazy."  
"You think you're a god."  
"I _am_ a god."  
"I rest my point."

Maxie gets to his feet, pushing the chair aside behind him, "What are you trying to say?"

The Joker coughs and they all shut up.

"See. That's better. A little bit of peace and quiet around here. Now, are we gonna get this game started or what?"

Two-Face's coin clatters to the table and they all stare at him. He looks up, half through hair and half through charred and blackened flesh. He smiles sickeningly, half of his teeth plainly visible through his burnt off lips.

"Yes."

The Joker smiles.

"If only that was the answer every time you need the bathroom. Which, by the way, considering you're this close to my feet, have you been anytime recently?"

Two-Face frowns, "I don't know."  
"Do you think you _should_ go?"  
"I don't know."

Two-Face flips his coin, and then smiles.

"No. I'm okay."  
"Alright. Well, look, if you piss on me again I'm gonna have to do something I'll regret, okay?"  
"Okay."

Batman glares at the Joker and the Joker shrugs, starting to deal out the cards. Scarecrow narrows his eyes at Clayface.

"You will remember to, ah, wash the cards with disinfectant once you're done, yeah?"

Clayface growls and stands up. Scarecrow also stands up. Batman shakes his head. Penguin and Riddler look on with scorn. Milo tuts. The Mad Hatter continues to draw cards. Maxie and Croc ball their hands into fists, knuckles cracking. The Joker rolls his eyes.

"_What you going to do? Hmm?_" Scarecrow asks. "Ah, how about we calm down," Jonathan suggests, his hands in a passive gesture that is instantly shot down by his other half.

"You don't touch him," Maxie says, in his best gangster voice.

"Oh, look. I'm being threatened by half a crocodile and a godly mobster because I'm waving my hands towards a little _prick_!" Clayface spits.

"Hey, you're leaving a mess on the seats. Just sit down and shut the hell up," the Joker says.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Why would you even care?"

"Just trying to keep the peace."  
"Why? Huh? Why?"

"Because," Batman says, through his teeth. "We're all in this together."

"And that means we have to be friends? Huh?"

"Fucking nutcase," Milo mutters, and Clayface spins angrily towards him leaving a trail on the floor and making a horrible squelching noise. Two-Face looks as though he's about to be sick.

"Hey, you're in here too. You're nuts too!"  
"I'm really not."  
"Yes! You are!"

"Closer, closer and closer," the Mad Hatter sings.

Commissioner Gordon walks into the room to see some of Gotham's most dangerous criminals on their feet pointing at each other and shouting. The only three remaining in their chairs around the central table are Harvey Dent, Bruce Wayne and the Joker, who is still dealing cards. He coughs, and they all stop dead, turning to stare at him. Croc retreats into the shadows with a growl, the Riddler and Penguin shift their chairs so that they can see him better, but the Mad Hatter keeps on.

The Joker whistles to himself, and then stops, looking up at Gordon through his hair.

"Commissioner. How delightful."

Gordon looks at Bruce, but Bruce is steadily ignoring him.

"I was wondering if I could speak with Mr Wayne? Alone."

Bruce Wayne smirks and looks at his old friend through deadened eyes.

"Anything you have to say to me can be said right here, _Commissioner_."

Gordon glances around, and then nods.

The Mad Hatter shrieks, and then shouts, "OUR NIGHT IS NEAR!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I have a problem," Gordon says after he pulls up a chair and sits around a table with most of the criminals he put inside this place. Bruce Wayne frowns.

"I'm done fixing your problems."

"Look, Bruce, I know this place isn't good for you but I couldn't _do_ anything."

The Joker laughs and Batman glares at him.

"I'm sure you could have done something."

"I need your help."  
"Tough," he snarls.

The Joker smiles at Batman like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He reaches out and grabs his hand, which Batman tries to snatch away, but his grip is too strong. He curls his lip instead.

"I'm so _proud_ of you, honey."

Two-Face and Scarecrow snigger and Batman finally manages to take back his hand. The sneer remains on his face, and the Joker giggles, turning back to his cards.

Gordon looks at the psychopaths around the table in the dingy room, and then looks at Bruce.

"Bruce, you _care_ about Gotham."  
"I _cared_ about Gotham. I cared about you. And I cared about Dick."

Maxie snorts, causing Two-Face to giggle and setting off the Joker. Jonathan rolls his eyes. Clayface picks at a scab on his arm until pus leaks and oozes out onto the chair, where it crusts and solidifies almost instantly. Penguin and the Riddler have edged in closer, and Milo stares intently at Gordon. The Mad Hatter still mutters in the shadows behind them.

"You both worked to throw me in here. Why should I care now?"

Gordon looks scandalised, "Because… this is what you worked for. This is what you wanted. Gotham's crime rates are lower than ever before and-"

"And _Nightwing_ is the hero. Go and bother him, and leave me alone."  
"Nightwing is good, I'll give him that, but it's mainly publicity and hope and he isn't capable of handling threats like you can."

Bruce looks up.

"Gordon, I'm sorry, but you're wasting your time."

Gordon shakes his head,

"I don't believe… Bruce… if your parents could see you now…"  
"They can't."  
"Make them proud. Stop behaving like a petulant child."  
"I tried that. I ended up in an asylum."  
"And you don't want out?"

The Mad Hatter appeared over Bruce's shoulder.

"We'll all be out soon."

Everyone stared at him, and he started to laugh. Gordon frowned,

"What does he mean by that?"

Milo shook his head,

"Ignore him. He's nuts."

The Mad Hatter laughs again.

"You're in the day. The bird is in the day and the Bat is in the night. We're in the night. You can cure the night with the day but the night always returns."

Gordon looks to Bruce,

"What the hell does that mean?"

The Riddler stands, hands on hips, and walks over.

"It means that we had our time, Commissioner. It means that our time will return. Night will turn into day, but day always has to turn back to night. We're all creatures of the night, the stuff of nightmares. Nightwing is a bird, he fights in the day, he fixes small, daytime problems that aren't anything like as scary as us. He isn't feared, like the Batman, and he won't be able to cope once the black returns."

The Riddler leans against the back of the Joker's chair, and smirks at the confused Commissioner.

"Night is coming, Commissioner," the Joker states, baring his teeth. "Just as it has before." He licks his lips. "The Hatter is always right. He told us when Batsy would join us, and here he is…"

Gordon looks at Bruce, "You've joined them?"  
"I have no allegiance. But, at the end of the night, the only people left are your enemies. I know this now."

"Bruce, please consider what I'm saying."

The Mad Hatter throws cards onto the table, giggling again.

"The Moon: you're confused, Commissioner, aren't you?" He laughs, and picks up another. "The Devil: power and energy imprisoned. Look around you!" He spins around on the spot; Milo tuts and goes to make a comment, but Scarecrow puts his hand over his mouth. "The Chariot: struggle and tension! You're choosing between night and day. Your safe hero and your deadly one. You haven't decided yet, though, have you?" He giggles again. "It's causing you a lot of pain and disagreements. Tell me, did you decide to throw Batsy in here with us or was it someone else? Someone seeking glory? There's a great deal of tension _now_. He didn't want you coming here!" He picks up cards rapidly now, "Nine of swords: fears and nightmares; have you been _suffering_ Commissioner? You look tired. Do you know why? Two of swords: tension and anxiety; you know something is on the horizon as well as I do. What is it? Mysterious disappearances? Threats? How does the birdy feel? Hmm?" He laughs once more. "More swords. The tenth! The end of a phase; which phase? Hm? The phase of the _day_ maybe? Gotham's day is ending and its night is coming. The moon will rise!"

A howl that the inmates recognised as Tony Romulus crept up from the darkness beyond the room. The Commissioner jumped, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up.

"All very negative for you, my friend. But for us, it is our time once more. Our time will come once more!"  
"You won't be back on the streets," Gordon said. "You can't."

"It is written, it cannot be undone. Five of cups: regret and sorrow; what do you regret Commissioner? Do you feel sad for leaving Batman in here to rot while Nightwing claims his glory? Do you regret the year he has spent with us? Do you regret it now that he has lost hope?"  
"I don't believe-"

The Mad Hatter turned over the final card, trying to stifle his giggles.

"Death, Commissioner. Death. The card of transformation and change. Things are changing. Something must end. The sun is setting and the moon is rising. Our time is coming once more. It has to occur. You'll see. You'll all see."

The Mad Hatter walked away, his movements jerky and frenzied. He laughed all of the way. He sang a song of his own making as he did so.

"_Our time is coming, you will see, your time will end it's time for me. The bird will fall and the bat will rise, the moon will shine in the sky. Howl, Anthony, for the moon is yours, the moon heralds the time for us all. We'll break the walls, we'll break them soon. The Bat and the Joker out from the gloom. Clay will ooze, Face will burn. Scarecrow and Jonathan will take their turn. Milo will leave, Maxie will rise, gods transcending to the sky. Croc will brawl and Riddlers leave clues, Penguin will fight and people will lose. _Our time is almost here. The dark night will rise_!"_

He skipped away, the noise of his singing upsetting the staff and the other, less important, inmates of the hospital. His shrieking laugh could be heard from the bowels of the place. Gordon continued to stare at the Death card, the emaciated figure on an equally emaciated black horse. The corpse of a man in the background, the sky dark.

"You don't believe this, do you Bruce?"

Batman looked back at Gordon. Milo muttered,

"I don't. They're all fucking mad in here."

Everyone else ignored him.

"He's usually right," Bruce stated.

"Which side will you take?"

The Joker started to laugh again, and Two-Face and Scarecrow joined in.

"Who has been here for me?"

"Bruce, please."  
"Gordon, I'm not planning on fighting. I've grown tired of it. This place saps the life from you."

"Bruce, I am sorry."

Bruce Wayne shrugged, and the Joker clapped his arm around his shoulders, hovering far too close to him once more. Gordon rose from his chair, and the inmates all stared once more. Inmates were screaming and Romulus was howling, the noise enough to drive Gordon mad. He didn't know how they stood it.

"I know I'm probably too late, but please, don't lose hope."

Gordon turned and walked out of the room. The last thing he heard was the Joker's nasal voice say,

"Harvey? That better not be your piss on the floor beneath you there or so help me God... What did I tell him? Anyone hear me when I _told_ him to go piss? Huh? Geez."

Sane people were best away from the asylum, Gordon knew this now. But he was too late. He'd probably lost his greatest ally inside the depths of Arkham, and he wasn't sure he'd ever get him back.

He had a lot to think about.


	3. Chapter 3

Two-Face was embarrassed, as he usually was when this kind of thing happened. Jonathan was using his psychiatrist training to try and explain to him that he didn't need to use the coin for every decision he ever made. Clayface was shouting at Milo for some unknown reason, and Maxie was talking to the Riddler about mob-leadership. Croc had stalked off back to his lair muttering about the water being contaminated with piss and the Mad Hatter hadn't come back.

Bruce and the Joker were left playing their own brand of poker, which wasn't really anything like poker anymore but passed the time, while the only other players still in the game did peer counselling.

"You know," Bruce said, without looking up. "You should stop chatting up your psychiatrist."

The Joker laughed.

"Jealous?"

Batman raised an eyebrow.

"Aw, why? It's so much fun."  
"She's young and vulnerable and quite frankly, she'd do anything you asked her to."

"Bad thing to tell the madman…"  
"You knew that already."  
"True."

Bruce lay down a card.

"Did you fuck her?"

The Joker smirked, scars cutting across his cheeks and pulling his cheeks into a disjointed grin.

"Did you fuck _Cat_-woman?"

Batman glared, "What the hell? How has that got anything to do with it?"

The Joker's eyes flickered to Bruce's and, gleefully, he laughed.

"Oh, you did. What about Poison Ivy?"  
"No!"  
"So you did the Cat then? Did you do her down an alley? Is she an alley cat?"  
"You're not funny."

The Joker pouted,

"You wound me. Seriously. Being funny is what I live for."

Scarecrow looked across at them, suddenly interested,

"Who's funny?"  
"Me."  
"You're not funny."  
"Hey! C'mon now. Want me to carve up that pretty face of yours?"

Scarecrow raised an eyebrow and threw down his own card,

"You have nothing to carve my face with, J."  
"Wanna bet?"

Scarecrow's eyes narrowed, and Jonathan peeked through,

"Erm, no, actually. No, I don't."

The Joker laughed,

"Well, whatever. I am funny. Harvey, it's your turn."

Two-Face was staring at his cards, an expression of utmost concentration plastered across his face. He pointed at a couple of cards, and then got out his coin. The Joker banged his head off the table a few times until Batman grabbed his hair and lifted it away. He looked disgusted at the level of grease.

"Do you even shower?"  
"Huh?"  
"Shower. Do you shower?"  
"What is this _show-er_ you speak of?"

"You disgust me."  
"I try."

"No seriously, you do. There's a thing in your cell. Called a sink."  
"I don't think there is."  
"There has to be."  
"Like they'd let me have metal. I have a mattress and a plastic bottle to piss in."

"What? That's against your human rights."

The Joker laughed,

"Do you seriously care about that?"

"No, I was just trying to change the subject."  
"Oh! Catwoman! Yeah, so, what was that like? Did she bite? Do cats bite? How about claw, did she claw?"

"Do you actually have a toothbrush? I have two. I'm willing to give you one."

"Look, I _like_ them this colour. White is so _ordinary_. You're distracting me again, right? Fail."

"It's not a fail if I managed. Jesus, Harvey, just toss down a card."

Harvey frowned, and finally put a card down onto the table.

"Finally," Scarecrow muttered, and the Joker instantly tossed his card too.

"You didn't answer me, Brucey. C'mon, you're with friends here. You can, literally, tell us anything. So, was she as we've all imagined her while we were wanking off in-"

Batman scowled and backhanded the Joker across the face. Two-Face and Scarecrow started to giggle helplessly.

"Ow, what the fuck? Did you just bitch-slap me?"

"Don't behave like a whiny _bitch_ and I won't."  
The Joker was scandalised, "I wasn't!"

"Oh come on, J. You are _so_ jealous; it's plain and simple to see."

The Joker narrowed his eyes and rubbed his face,

"I am not."

Bruce was about to take his turn when the screaming started.

"Well, that's different," the Joker said, throwing the rest of the cards onto the table and standing up. Batman followed suit, and, so did Scarecrow and Two-Face.

Maxie walked up behind them, Clayface lurking in the background and Milo already starting to rant about the lunacy of the inmates.

"'the hell's going on?" Maxie asked, and the Joker shrugged.

"What do I look like, some kinda mind reader?"

"That's not a normal psycho-scream," Batman muttered.

The Mad Hatter ran through the doorway, laughing manically.

"It's time boys! It's our time! The night has fallen! Darkness has descended! It's _time_!"

He ran back out of the door, still cackling and shrieking, and the men looked at each other.

"Well. I dunno about you guys," The Joker said. "But I'm getting the hell outta here while I can."


	4. Chapter 4

They moved through the many corridors of the asylum mainly untouched, forgotten by the harassed staff who lay bleeding in doorways, cowering behind desks or chasing around the rioting inmates.

The inmates kept a wide berth, knowing who they were and what they could do. The Mad Hatter ran past them once again, screaming wildly, waving his arms around and urging the easily suggestible patients to break down the doors.

It reminded Bruce of a scene from a film with zombies. Pale hands clawing and pushing to be free. Scratching against wood to grab a gasp of the polluted air outside. They were better in here, really, too fragile to see the light of day. But Bruce wanted out, and he wasn't willing to stop them now.

A staff member with a bloodied head crawled over to him and stopped at his feet, clutching onto the regulation sweatpants he wore. He glances down with distain, the Joker, Scarecrow and Two-Face stopping beside him. The Riddler slunk past, tipping his hat to them. Ahead, Maxie and Croc were shoulder-barging the door that led to the streets.

"Batman," the doctor hissed through his teeth. "I always believed in you. I never gave up on you. I never will. Please, help us."

The Joker kicked the man in the stomach, sending him flying aside and into the wall, sneering.

"I don't _like_ beggars. Especially ones who _lie_."

The Joker looked at Batman, and Batman started walking again.

"Batman!"

They ignored him.

"Man, it's fucked up in here tonight," Scarecrow muttered. He could sense the fear and it was exhilarating. Two-Face was twitchy beside him, clutching his tainted coin in his sweaty palm, his un-ruined eye wary in its socket.

A small-time psycho ran up to them and stopped dead in front of them. He pulled out a sharp stick, one that looked like it came from the leg of a plastic chair. The Joker sighed. The criminal edged towards Batman, but the Bat didn't move. The madman put the pointy end of the plastic over Bruce's heart; he still didn't move.

The Joker picked up a fire extinguisher; he was stood behind the man, he was invisible and unimportant.

"Ah, buddy? Yeah. No one gets to touch the Bat but me," he snarled, lifting up the metal object and bringing it down on the mans head. He crumpled to the floor, blood pooling on the tiles from the head wound. The Joker giggled. Batman stared down at the body. He sighed, eyes unreadable, and Jonathan and Harvey waited for the explosion.

Bruce raised his eyebrows, some kind of unreadable sparkle popping up inside his eyes, and the Joker cocked his head curiously.

"That shit cray." He looked directly at the Joker, "Ain't it J?" [1]

The Joker burst out laughing and kept going until he was crying.

"Oh _man_. You made a joke. And a good one!"

Bruce smirked. The Joker pulled out a fountain pen.

"Where'd you get that?"

He shrugged, "Harley."  
"Oh, _Harley_!"  
"Let's go have some fun."

The asylum was lost, nothing could keep it from burning. It would shine out like a beacon into the darkness, signifying that the night had began. The sun had set and the moon was rising above them.

Inmates ran through the halls, screaming, singing, laughing, crying. They attacked each other, they attacked the staff, they attacked the walls and the doors. Objects were thrown.

The front doors fell with a crunch, a crack and a bang. From the doorway emerged a hulking figure with scales and a snout filled with sharp, elongated teeth and a tall, muscular man who stood and allowed the rain to drench him as he shouted at the sky. Lightening bolts flashed and he laughed. From behind him a man on all fours ran into the darkness, screaming in pain and panting. He sprouted hair from his body as soon as the moonlight hit his back, and he howled into the night, shooting off in search of prey.

A man in a top hat bounced out of the doorway, wheezing and laughing, muttering phrases that meant nothing. He was followed by another beating inmates aside with a question-mark topped cane. The frenzied screaming increased in pitch inside.

A man with a sack over his face left, jerkily, followed by a man with half a face and horrific burns. Another, with green hair and a mutilated mouth smirked as he left, stopping to feel the air and the rain on his skin, his hair sticking to his face. He laughed.

The man who left last had dark hair and little trace of madness. His strength was evident even before he punched an orderly who tried to drag him back by force.

The moonlight illuminated the truck as the Joker fiddled with wires and struck gold with the ignition. He smirked, climbing in the drivers side and slamming the door. Jonathan and Harvey climbed into the back and he pulled over to Batman.

"Hey Batsy! You either get in the truck or go back inside!"

Batman skidded over the bonnet and climbed into the passenger side.

"Atta boy."

The Joker pulled away with the squeal of tyres on tarmac as the wheels spun away from Arkham. He started to hum.


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: sorry for the delay, guys and thanks for continuing to follow! I've had resit exams and strange goings on in life and maaad writers block with this particular story but I've forced myself to sit down, read over it again, and get the ball rolling so hopefully, with any luck, I can get this finished. Or at least in the right direction!  
-_fs_**

* * *

"So," The Joker said, sitting on a desk in a warehouse and eating pizza that they had somehow managed to gather without being recognised, in a feat that Bruce still couldn't believe they'd pulled off. "What now?"

He looked at each of them in turn. The warehouse was dark and damp, not unlike the asylum itself. He had a couch and a couple of mattresses lying in the office and almost regretted giving up it's location, but, sometimes you've just gotta roll the dice.

Batman was looking around with an unreadable expression. The Joker frowned at him and waved pizza in his general direction.

"Hey, Batsy? Speak up, man. I can't tell what you're thinking. It's disconcerting."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, "A warehouse?"

The Joker shrugged.

"Could you get anymore cliché?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, it could be a circus. C'mon, you're just gutted you didn't think to check the warehouses when you were chasing me around downtown Gotham."

"I _did_ check the warehouses."  
"Not _enough_."  
"So every warehouse that has a mouldy couch and rotten mattresses could be a Joker-fortress."  
"Nah, just the one. I only do things once."

Scarecrow finished his pizza and stood up.

"Alright. I'm going to loot a suit and get myself back in the game."

His eyes flickered to Batman,

"Hey, I can say that in front of you, right?"

Batman rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure I'll catch you around, yeah?" He clapped his hand against the Joker's, who nodded.

"I'm sure you will. Laters, Johnny."  
"See ya, J."

He turned to Harvey, "You look after yourself, man. And remember. You can make _some_ choices without the coin."

Harvey's fist clenched over the coin protectively, and Jonathan rolled his eyes.

He held out a hand to Bruce, and Bruce shook it.

"Been good seeing eye to eye."

Scarecrow turned and walked into the night.

Harvey's coin clinked against the table behind them, and he too got to his feet jerkily.

"Okay. I have to go too."

"You don't _have_ to," Bruce said, but Harvey shook his head. "I'm sure I'll be around too." He laughed nervously. "Hard to avoid the performers in this freak show. Imagine how many bombs will be going off?"

He spun around and followed Scarecrow into the darkness.

"Charming thought," Bruce muttered, and lay back against the table he was sitting on. The Joker stared at him for a while.

"What's eating ya, Bat?"

Bruce flickered his eyes over to the Joker, who appeared to be upside down from this angle. Even after a year, he still wasn't used to the face beneath the make up.

"Am I a bad guy now?"

The Joker shrugged.

"Guess that's your choice. Hey?"

"Hm?"  
"You wanna get drunk?"

Bruce's face cracked into a smile.

"Yeah alright then."

* * *

Quite a few cans of cheap beer later, Batman and the Joker were lying in the office on two of the mouldy mattresses that lay on the floor. They were both laughing to themselves, oblivious to the sounds of chaos outside.

"Hey, I want my suit back," Bruce muttered, pouting. The Joker found this hilarious.

"Alright," he said, in the breath he had left between laughs. "We'll get it back."

"What about yours?"

The Joker shrugged, "I'm sure I have a spare somewhere…" He made to get up, but failed miserably and slumped back down onto the thin mattress.

"Ah, fuck it," he said, and Bruce laughed.

"We should take down Nightwing. He's became a prick."  
"We can do that."

It went quiet for a while, and the Joker was just drifting off to sleep when Bruce spoke again.

"I never thought I'd be okay with this."  
The Joker cracked open one eye and looked at Bruce staring pensively at the ceiling, "With what?"

"This. You and me."

The Joker giggled, "You and me? Aw, baby, I'm touched."

Bruce tried to slap the Joker but missed.

"You know what I mean. I mean, you know, falling. Coming down to your level."

The Joker frowned.

"I don't think you have," he muttered. "Not really."  
"Huh?"

The Joker sighed,

"In the end, Brucey, there is no good and bad. There's only a choice between bad and worse."

They went silent until Bruce's snores filled the room. The Joker sighed again.

"And as much as I _enjoy_ your company, one day you're gonna snap back. Because, it wouldn't be as much _fun_ without you trying to stop me now, would it?"

The Joker rolled over and closed his eyes.

Outside, people locked themselves in their houses and cried and screamed as madmen tore through the streets, burning and smashing. The roads were littered with glass and metal. Blood painted the pavements. The police tried their hardest to control the situation, but it seemed uncontrollable. Gordon's nerves were frazzled as he tried to order his force into doing the right thing. Subdue, arrest, incarcerate. It was harder than it sounded.

Nightwing tried to keep his face, to reassure the public, but taking down the entirety of Arkham Asylum was taking its toll on him, and he was beginning to crack.

And he couldn't help but worry, because, out of all of the inmates, the Batman and the Joker were the only two left unaccounted for.

And they were the two biggest threats.

And both had a score to settle with him…

* * *

**a/n: also, I actually really liked Robin in TDKR so I feel kinda _bad_ for having a dig now. But I never liked him in the comics so it's comic Robin that became Nightwing that I'm making into a jerk. *nods***


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: hey guys. I wanted this up yesterday but my, ah, account got blocked coz I'm a very naughty person. So, sorry for the wait!**

* * *

Bruce woke up to the sound of the Joker swearing. His head was fuzzy and he really wanted water. Or coffee. God, he'd missed coffee in Arkham.

"Fucks sake!"

He sat up, ignoring the pain it brought.

"What are you doing?"

The Joker glanced up at him and licked his lips.

"Oh, morning sunshine. Didn't realise you were awake or I'd have the coffee ready already."

He was clearly distracted.

"What," Bruce said in a slower voice. "Are you doing?"

The Joker raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. I'm just texting Johnny. Or, at least I'm _trying_ to. Geez. You tried these touch screens? Of course you have, you're a billionaire Bat-man with loads of gadgets. Auto-correct is a total bitch, right?"

Bruce laughed, and the Joker looked up from the phone to his face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just, the amount of stupid texts my phone sent…"  
"Yeah, tell me about it. And it keeps sending them half-finished."  
"You said coffee?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." He waved vaguely behind him and Bruce spotted a dirty kettle and a jar. He stood up and walked towards it.

"You ever clean?"  
"What's the point?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and moved over to the kettle.

"Um…?" he said out loud, before realising that he _had _said it out loud. The Joker turned around and regarded him curiously, vest shirt hanging loosely from his frame and tracksuit bottoms low on his hips. He narrowed his eyes, and then worked it out - Bruce could see from the glint in his eyes that he had – then he smirked and walked over to him.

He flicked the switch on the wall to on and filled the kettle, setting the water to boil. He then very deliberately took a spoon and added a few spoonfuls of instant coffee into each cup. He then stood back, and stretched his arms out.

"And now the magic happens!" he shouted, breaking down into laughter about halfway through the sentence. He was breathless by the time he'd finished, leant forwards, hands on his knees and tears running down his cheeks.

"Alright," Bruce muttered. "It isn't _that_ funny."

"It's instant coffee!" The Joker managed to choke out before breaking into giggles again. Once he'd composed himself, the water was still only half boiled. He stood up, wiped away a tear and looked Bruce in the eye. "It's like the simplest thing in the _wor-ld_."

And at this he cracked up again. Bruce was embarrassed, but wasn't going to let it show.

"Yeah, well, I can work the coffee _machine_ back home."

"Oh man, do you do espressos in your house? Like a built in _Starbucks_?"

"I could."

"How did you survive in Arkham, huh? Seriously. Grains to cup. Water to cup. Coffee."

"Well my machine-"

"Mach-_ine_."

"-is a lot more complicated than that. You have actual beans and you have to turn dials and-"

"Nananana nananana BAT-COFFEE!"

The Joker set himself off again and Bruce gave up.

"How _long_ does your kettle take to boil."  
"About an hour. I was thinking I should get another one."

"Get a machine."  
"_Noooo_. We're not posh here."  
"It's not _posh_, it's the way forward."

"Yeah, and so is this phone. It's a piece of _shit_."

Bruce shrugged and watched the kettle vibrate, steam rising up the damp walls. In the daytime, some light was seeping through into the warehouse, and he could make out the damp stains on the wall and the broken window panes. It was a fairly depressing atmosphere, all things considered.

The kettles light went off and the Joker lifted it from the crutch, pouring boiling water into the two cups and then setting it back down. He picked his up and blew on it, pushing Bruce's further along the bench towards him.

The Joker raised his eyebrows as Bruce lifted the cup.

"It's probably gonna taste _bad_."

Bruce shrugged,

"It's coffee."

He took a sip, fighting the wince at the bitter taste since the Joker was watching him intently. He looked up and found himself staring directly into muddy green eyes. It took him a second before he gave up deciphering the expression, but he refused to drop eye contact.

"So, what now?"

The Joker smacked his lips and his tongue ran out to lick over the jagged pink lines that marred his cheeks.

"_Now_," he said, drawing out the word. "We get your suit."


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: _Hi guys, sorry to keep you all waiting for forever, but I had some exam stuff going on, then writer's block, and more recently I managed to lose the few chapters I had written that followed on from this when my computer gave up on life! _But _I'm back and hopefully you're all still interested. I'll try to update pretty regularly, but my usual three chapters in advance written has gone out of the window, and so I might take a while. This one's extra long as an apology. Hopefully, it'll continue to keep up a good appearance! Thanks  
-fs_**

* * *

Or, at least the plan was to get the Bat's suit. Bruce _had_ to wash up and, while he was washing some of the grime down the plug hole and trying to clean the mirror of a fair few years of dust, his mind started wandering to exactly _why_ the Joker would possibly want to help him become Batman again.

Sure, they'd formed an uneasy allegiance in the Asylum (it was impossible not to, after all) and Bruce was wavering on the fence between good and bad, but why would the Joker want something back that could potentially stand in the way of his world domination plans?

Bruce had a sudden flashback full of anger and pain and a man telling him that it wasn't about a grand scheme; it was simply about the two of them and the dance that they seemed to let themselves be dragged into.

He came back to himself white knuckled and splashed some water on his face before pulling out the plug and walking down the metal staircase to the unlit warehouse below.

The Joker was nowhere in sight, which was sure to mean he was lurking behind a pile of boxes ready to jump out on him in a feeble attempt to scare him half to death.

"J?"

There was a cough from the gloomy corner and he squinted through the dark. Next came aloud clanging and spluttering noise and Bruce had to squint through light as his eyes were practically burnt out.

The Joker appeared, coughing, through a cloud of dust with the biggest smile Bruce had ever seen on a human face. He imagined that probably had something to do with the scars cutting upwards. More than that the Joker was just smiling, anyway.

"Ta-da!" The Joker managed to say, before he started coughing again. Bruce rolled his eyes.  
"Maybe we should get some fresh air while this place clears."  
"Mhm, maybe."

Bruce headed towards the door, but an arm reached out and stopped him, catching him by surprised and spinning him around. He stumbled to a halt, face to face with a cynical looking Joker.

"What?"  
"You're not going out like that."

Bruce didn't remember being a teenage girl. Or putting on a very short skirt. Or having the Joker as a mother.

"What?"

The Joker waved his arm over Bruce's body.

"That! You're not even trying to cover up!"  
"Why would I?"  
"Um, psychopath on the run?"

Bruce had to admit he was kind of right. But he was also _the Joker_ complete with green hair and a slashed-up face.

"Well, what about you?"  
"What about me?"  
"You're not exactly Mr Inconspicuous yourself!"  
"I'll put my hood up."  
"You're not even wearing a jacket."

The Joker picked up a purple jacket from the table top and shook the dust off it before pulling it over his head and flicking the hood down.

"See! I bet you've never _once_ got a sighting of me in the day time, right? But I've been here all the time. In fact, I was in Gotham for around 3 months before I even started playing with the mob. No one noticed. Hoodies are the _ultimate_ disguise."

Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that and not having bright green hair. You only started drawing attention to yourself when you started doing outrageous things that were _bound_ to get you noticed. Like, oh, I don't know, blowing things up and slicing people's jugulars."  
"I didn't always go for the jugular. It's kinda messy, ya know?"  
"Anyway. I don't have-"

The Joker cut his train of thought off by ramming a cap down over Bruce's eyes. Bruce pulled it up and glared at the Joker, who smirked.

"That's better."  
"You're really irritating, do you know that?"  
"Uh-huh. Yah. But," the Joker taps the brim of Bruce's cap. "Not only is it a disguise, but it'll keep the rain off ya too!"  
"For the love of God…"

They walk outside and the Joker locks up – not that Bruce can imagine anyone would _want_ to be in there, but industrial estates are dodgy places in Gotham, so who knows what could end up in there.

They naturally stick to the darker, shadowy alleyways where there are less people. Buildings lie derelict here, there and everywhere after people bugged out when Bane went crazy. Even more seemed to have upped and left overnight after the asylum bust its doors and spilled monsters out on to the street.

The Joker was singing, but Bruce couldn't quite make out what it was over the sound of sirens and the wind in his ears. It was kind of annoying, but he couldn't be bothered to hit him to make him shut up.

A solitary figure brushed swiftly past them, not even sparing them a second glance. But something pricked up Bruce's interest and he turned to face her retreating figure.

"Selina?"

The Joker stopped dead, turning slowly to see Bruce's back staring at a figure who had also stopped dead in the path.

Selina turned.

"Bruce?"  
"Yeah… Yeah, it's me! Hi!"

The Joker frowned, "Bruce, c'mon."  
"Hold on a minute."  
"No, c'mon."  
"No, hold on."

Selina smiled, "I'm kinda in a rush…"  
"Just… a minute. That's all. I, ah, I'm sorry how things turned out."  
"So'm I."

The Joker sighed dramatically, and decided the best course of action would be to start singing.

"_We only say goodbye in words."_

Bruce frowned, but ignored the clown behind him, trying to think of the right thing to say to Selina. He was never very good at things like this.

"_I died a hundred times!"_

"J, shut up," Bruce snapped, before turning back to a very awkward looking Selina. The Joker had thrown his arms out and was staring up at the sky as he shouted out the lyrics.

"_You go back to her, and I go back to-"_

The last word was cut off by an explosion in an empty multi-story car park to the left of them. It knocked Bruce and Selina to the floor but the Joker managed to stay on his feet with practiced ease. He was shaking his head to get rid of the ringing and the dizziness when he felt himself being slammed against a wall. Through the cloud of dust he could make out Bruce's face, mouth moving violently. He shook his head.

"I can see you have your angry face on but I kinda can't hear a word you're saying…"

The ringing cleared, replaced with buzzing, but he could actually hear which was a plus.

"What?" Bruce asked.  
"Huh?"  
"Stop playing games!"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"What do you think?"

The Joked frowned.

"Oh, _that_. You think _that_ was me? That wasn't me. C'mon, look at it. It was _empty_! I'd do something with far more impact!"  
"I don't believe you."  
"When have I ever lied to you?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

"Well, other than that one time. Which you're still upset at me for. When else?"

Bruce growled. Selina managed to pick herself up from the floor and walk over to them. From a side-street, Scarecrow ran into view, stopping dead as soon as he saw them.

"J? Why'd you blow up an empty building?"  
"Why does everyone think it's me?"  
"It usually is. Plus Batman has you up against a wall."  
"He just loves me."

Bruce dropped the Joker with scorn. The Joker brushed himself off with a smirk.

"If it wasn't you, who was it?"

Harvey walked into view, laughing to himself. The Joker raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly from Bruce, to Jonathan, to Harvey.

"Any ideas yet?"  
"Harvey, did you just blow that up?"

Harvey nodded.

"Why did you blow up an empty building?"  
"The coin said to do so."

"Oh, geez. Next time go for a bank or something!" The Joker said and Bruce slapped him. "Ow!"

"There's a man over there," Harvey said, pointing, and sure enough there was a man behind a bin. Scarecrow tutted.  
"_Ooh, bad boy. What're you doing _spying?"  
"I hate spies," the Joker said, and Scarecrow nodded.  
"We should deal with him," Harvey said.

The Joker pulled a pistol from under his jacket and aimed at the man, who was frozen to the spot. As he fired, Bruce slapped his hand, knocking the shot wide. The man scrambled to his feet and ran away into the smoke. The Joker and Scarecrow were horrified.

"Why did you do that?" Scarecrow asked.  
"I don't kill."  
"But he'll tell people now!" The Joker whined.  
"No _killing_."

The Joker sniffed, "Well, I can't promise that."  
"Me neither," Jonathan said, folding his arms. "_Or me_."  
Harvey flipped a coin, "No. I can't either. Sorry."  
"Don't apologise, Harvey," Jonathan said, shaking his head. "We're supervillains, remember?"  
"Oh yeah…"

Bruce rolled his eyes.

"You know the police will be here soon?"  
"Yeah."  
"Ya."  
"So we should probably… go."  
"Probably."  
"Nah, I think we should stay here and kill some cops," the Joker said, glancing at Bruce.

Bruce didn't react, turning back the way they came.

"Where'd your girlfriend go?"  
"You must've scared her off."  
"Wow, well she's no good."  
"Back in the game, J," Jonathan said with a wink.

Bruce hit him.


	8. Chapter 8

**_a/n: Hello you lovely, charming, faithful people. I'm sorry I've been away so long. You know how life is. It interferes and you get caught up and suddenly the_ real_ world is overcoming the worlds you prefer to be in and you're losing all ability to write and construct plots and every time you try it comes out a absolute bollocks so you just completely give up until one night when you're not tired (and that's _not _to do with late night coffee at all). So you end up with 6 word documents open flicking between 4 different fandoms and something of your own creation that are either half finished or newly started before you realise it's closer to 2am than you'd like and you have to be at work tomorrow til like 11pm so you should probably sleep but you're just not tired at all and... I'm rambling and this was meant to be an apology. I've always been shit at apologies._**  
**_A-nee-way, thanks for the continued support. People are still finding this story and reviewing even when it's been idle for christ know how long and it really helps me get back in the mood to actually start writing again because, damn, I'm a massive attention seeker and I just can't resist it. Plus there's all that stuff about not wanting to disappoint people too, of course. I'll try not to leave this, or any other half-finished stuff, for as long as I have done in the past and now I'm saving everything to memory stick too so even if I do have a huge data crash again (even if that was ages ago) I won't lose the stuff I've got jotted down for where I'm going with this shit. _**  
**_But thanks again if you've stuck with me this long and I hope this lives up to expectations upon reboot._**  
**_-fs_**

* * *

Bruce had hit the Joker hard enough to make him see stars and stagger backwards and considering they had just been caught up in an explosion he didn't think that was very nice.

He put his hand to his already mangled nose just to make sure it wasn't broken or bleeding, and, finding it wasn't, proceeded to shake his head slightly and smile at Bruce.

Now, Bruce had been around the Joker enough to know when he was about to go psycho, so he tensed up every muscle and braced himself for the attack. Even with the sirens blaring in the distance and getting louder by the second they all stood on a knife-edge (probably quite literally) as the Joker sauntered towards Bruce and threw his arm around his neck, ruffling his hair.

"Now Brucey, buddy, we know punching each other in the face isn't a nice thing to do. It might make you feel better about your lady friend running off but, actually, this time it wasn't my fault. I didn't kill her. Or even put her in a room full of oil barrels and wait for something else to kill her."

Both Harvey and Bruce grimaced. Jonathan looked away, muttering 'awk-ward' under his breath.

"So how about we limit to punching to people who deserve it and not start brawling in public when, really, we need to get away from this bombsite and get your suit."

Harvey and Jonathan were suddenly very interested in the conversation.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold up," Jonathan said.  
"Yes Johnny, honey?"  
"His suit?"  
"Well, yah, he can't be Batsy without the _suit_."

"I'm not being funny," he turned to Bruce. "And no offense. But, ah, wouldn't giving him back his suit just give him another excuse to go back to beating the shit out of us?"  
"Ohhh, when the whole city hates him? When they incarcerated him for such a long time? No, no, no. Brucey knows who was there for him in the _bad_ times. Hey, c'mon, we were the people protecting his sanity in there. Gotham wanted him to rot, they were baying for his blood. Why oh why would he go back to protecting them when they are just _so rude_? Huh? Why wouldya, Brucie?"

The Joker tapped him on the chin.

"Don't be scared, sweetie. C'mon. You can tell us, can't ya? Hmm?"  
"I wouldn't."  
"See. See! He's one of us now. And that suit is pretty intimidating. Man, with the right _gas_ and the right _flames_ I'm pretty sure a giant _bat_ floating around could drive _plenty _of people crazy."

The first cop car pulled up at the other end of the alley and Bruce pushed down his cap. The Joker reached over and tugged Johnny's hood up, winking. Harvey followed suit after flipping the coin, smiling at the outcome.

"Hey! It's not safe out here! Get home!"

The Joker gave the cop a thumbs up and shouted a "Sorry, just checking it out ya know?" before they wandered off into the alleyways beyond. Once out of the way, Jonathan pulled down his hood with a grimace and flattened down his hair.

"The cops in this city are so fucking _stupid_."

The Joker hummed his agreement.

"You guys coming with us to get the suit?" Bruce asked, and Jonathan shrugged.  
"Not like I've gotta be somewhere urgently. I might as well."

Harvey flipped a coin and shook his head, eyes wide, muttering something about Nightwing. The Joker rolled his eyes.

"Hey, you know where we're based though, right?"

Harvey scuttled off without responding and the Joker waved a hand in his direction.

"Alright, whatever. I don't exist to babysit you lunatics. Let's get this fucking suit while they're distracted. You got weapons, Johnny?"

Jonathan pulled out a canister and something flashed behind his eyes as he smirked.

"New formula."  
"Good, good. So quickly too."  
"I've had a lot of time to mull over it."  
"Ya, _tell _me about it. You excited to have your suit back, Brucie?"

Bruce shrugged.

"I get the feeling I'm going to have to fight someone I once fought beside in order to get it. And that gets to me. Especially when I'm running with a pack of wild dogs."

The Joker rolled his eyes.

"Well only _maim _him. Well, we will if Johnny's formula works. If not then the knives are out for real."

Bruce's jaw tightened, but he was learning not to say anything.

"Just leave-"  
"The old man?" Jonathan asked, and Bruce nodded.  
"You got it, captain," The Joker said, with a salute.

They walked out of the main city and into the surrounding countryside, mist swallowing them up.


End file.
